By-Path Meadow
by Herpestidae
Summary: the easy way doesn't always take you to where you want to be. Terra is attacked, forcing the Titans to take her back in. Between tiptoeing around Beast Boy's relationship with Raven and the new metahuman following her, Terra's become quite the spanner in the works.
1. Chapter 1

I tend to do this thing where I start the sequel before I finish the first part.

So yeah. This isn't really continuing until I finish _Unyielding_, or at least not getting to the BBRae parts.

* * *

Herman Estevez had been attending Murakami High for just over three months, and hardly anyone had noticed him. Just the way he liked it. He hated attention, and he already got enough of it as a mid-year transfer student. He stayed away from sports, clubs, and cliques; he pulled average grades in everything, and generally kept to himself. By all accounts, he was just your average 16-year-old junior, and he wouldn't have it any other way. But today was going to ruin it for sure.

Third Period: Physical Education. Two teams, twenty-five kids each. Ten giant red rubber balls. Jocks polished their knuckles. Nerds quaked in fear. Herman sighed.

The whistle blew, and red blurs flew through the air. Some collided. Others were dodged or caught by the more dexterous students. Herman started moving, staying toward the back of the crowd. No use being a stationary target. Running across the field, he snuck a glance at the other team. Nobody had aimed for him yet, but the crowd was thinning; there were considerably more nerds than jocks on his side. It was going to happen sooner or later.

"Hey, look out!"

He sidestepped before he saw who was yelling at him. The other guy- well, _girl_- wasn't so lucky. She tried to stop and overbalanced, falling forward. Herman's hand reached out to grab her before she could break her face, and he pulled her back to a standing position.

One look in her eyes was all it took to send his mind into overdrive. His head buzzed, his legs started shaking, and goosebumps ran up and down his arms and legs. A noxious taste and smell assaulted him, and he felt violently ill even though he knew they were only in his mind. The sensation disoriented him, and she had to speak for him to snap to himself again.

"Thanks for helping me up, but you can let me-"

Though still reacting to the assault on his senses, Herman caught a whiff of something else, and his arms shoved her, then his neck leaned back. Two red balls flew past the pair at head level, both inches from striking true.

The girl glared at him, not sure what to think about what just happened. He took the time to study her face before he moved again. Long, bushy blond hair. Blue eyes. Skinny as a twig. Whatever was the problem with this one escaped him, but his danger sense didn't lie: something big was going to go down very soon, and she was its target. He'd have to keep an eye on her.

His thoughts were interrupted when his body twisted, and a ball whizzed by, so close that his loose T-shirt fluttered in its wind. He barely took two steps before he threw himself forward and rolled to avoid another ball that was sent his way. He glanced at the opposing team. Three big guys had him in their sights, glaring menacingly, weapons at the ready.

His body leaned sideways, almost nonchalantly, to evade the first throw. When the second one came, he cartwheeled out of the way. He'd barely returned to standing position when he leapt into a backflip to let the third pass harmlessly under him. When he thought he was in the clear, he suddenly jumped and spun horizontally in midair to avoid two more shots that came from across the field. He landed in a crouch that turned into a handspring when another ball narrowly missed him and knocked out the guy behind him.

There was a lull in the fire; all ten balls were on his side. Everyone- his team, the other team, even the coach- was looking at him, mouths agape. Herman looked around. Only he, the blonde girl, and one guy remained on his side, while the other team had them outnumbered two to one. He picked up the ball closest to him and threw it. It didn't hit the girl he was _aiming_ at, but the guy behind her wasn't paying attention and took a hit to the chest.

That restarted the game in earnest.

* * *

It was not a different Herman Estevez that entered the cafeteria at lunch. It was his company.

As in, he actually _had_ company.

Small, scrawny teenagers gathered around him, seeing his actions in dodgeball as some sort of stand against the tyranny of the high school clique system, instead of the uncontrolled display of metahuman ability it was. They were chattering and babbling and he was very, very confused. While his senses weren't exactly _enhanced_, they were still highly active, and his attention would flit from speaker to speaker at every syllable spoken. For this reason, he usually ate lunch in the nurse's office (his mother had written in about a "medical condition") instead of the noisy lunchroom. But the noxious danger odor he smelled on the blonde Girl- Tara Markov, he'd later learned- had returned with a vengeance. Whatever was going down was going down _soon._

He started blocking out the background noise, a bit at a time, sniffing the air and smelling past whatever this place called "food," searching for the odor that only he could detect. It was some conglomerate of citrus, molten steel, concrete, and blood. But mostly blood.

Finally, he came to the table where Tara sat. He invited himself to sit down, and the crowd of nerds, apparently taken aback by the sight of females of the species, dispersed.

"That's weird," Herman muttered. He turned to the girls, pointing. "Tara Markov, right?"

She nodded. She pointed to her left, at a freckled redhead with green eyes, then to her right, at the Black girl with blue eyes and a ponytail. "That's Emily, and Alex."

"Hi. I... wanted to talk to you about what happened in P.E."

Emily crossed her arms. "Here to apologize?"

That caught Herman off guard. "For...?"

"Protip: watch where you put your hands. You totally copped a feel." Tara remarked, indignant.

Herman put a hand to his mouth. "Ooh, sorry. Total accident." His eyes moved from Tara's forehead to her chest, then back up, in half a second. "Though to be fair, it's not like there's much of a feel to cop there." _Oh, damn._

Another drawback of enhanced reflexes: a nonexistent mind-to-mouth filter.

Tara's eyes narrowed, and her hand moved to smack him, but caught only air.

"Okay," Herman said, backtracking, "I didn't really mean that. I mean... well, yeah, I did, but I shouldn't have _said_ it."

"You can leave now,"

"No, I can't. I-I have something to say."

"I don't want to hear it."

"It's something important," Herman insisted, grabbing her hands instinctively. He started to shiver again, and he could _feel_ something stabbing him in the gut. She stared into his eyes, and he caught a strange, faraway look in them, before they focused again.

He released her hands, and looked to her two friends. "Look Alex, Emily... We need to talk. Alone."

He got up, and Tara followed. They headed out the back entrance to the cafeteria and into an empty hallway.

"Okay, what is it you have to tell me?"

"First of all... this never leaves the hallway," he said, reaching into his wallet and handing her a gold card.

She gasped when she read it. It came from the New York City Bureau of Metahuman Affairs. It had Herman's picture, full name, Date of Birth, and Processing Number.

On the back, it listed his abilities:

_Precognition, Minor_

_Enhanced Reflexes (Major)  
_

_Enhanced Senses (Minor)  
_

"What... what is this?" She asked.

"When I touched you, I sensed that you were in danger. And it's happening really, really soon, I can smell it in the air. You have to get out of here, Tara, before-"

Before he could finish the sentence, his arms wrapped around Tara's waist and his legs propelled them away from the wall of lockers, just as a concrete fist smashed through at head height. A massive red-eyed concrete monolith burst through the wall, roaring loudly enough to alert the students in the cafeteria.

"... It's too late," Herman finished.

And it certainly was.

Herman grabbed Tara and ran away from the monster and toward the cafeteria, but stopped in his tracks as the doors opened.

Herman had seen a lot of things. New York City had, at a whopping 18%, the greatest Metahuman density in North America, and the second greatest in the world, next to Tokyo (20%). So when Cinderblock punched through the wall, it hardly phased him.

What did, was that _ninjas_, of all things, dressed in Black and orange, sidled in through the cafeteria entrance to the hallway, one wielding a katana, the other a set of blades that Herman couldn't even place. They looked like what you'd get if you bisected a circle and brought the halves together again, but so that the edges went past their original positions.

"Please tell me they're here to fight that thing," Tara said, in a tone that indicated that she knew otherwise.

"Nope," Herman responded. _So that's where the smell of citrus came in, I guess._ _All that's missing is the blood. _

"Hey, Tara?"

"Yeah?"

"Between the ninjas and the giant concrete guy, which would you rather try to outrun?"

"Concrete guy."

"Thought so. Also, I'm sorry in advance."

"For wha-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"

Herman grabbed Tara and turned, spinning twice and finally letting her down on the ground, to slide directly between Cinderblock's feet, headfirst as if she were playing baseball. She got herself together and began to book it, and the stone giant quickly gave chase in a lumbering run.

Herman was totally going to get noticed now.

* * *

Here it is. The first part of _something_.

Yes, the girl is Terra. No, she doesn't remember the Titans, although she absolutely loves the movie.


	2. Chapter 2

Basically, all of Herman's fight scenes are going to be me avoiding the word "dodge" like it's my crazy ex-girlfriend.

* * *

It took approximately three nanoseconds for Beast Boy to realize that this was no regular alarm. There was no klaxon or flashing red light. This one was 100% noise, an ear-shattering screech that sounded like microphone feedback.

Beast Boy looked up from the chess board at Raven, and wordlessly, the two of them disappeared into a black portal and landed in the common room.

Cyborg and Starfire were entering, and Robin was already at the big screen.

"Dude, do you think we can get a louder alarm? My soul hasn't gone deaf yet."

Robin ignored the jibe. "Big problem. Big Alarm."

"What has occurred?" Starfire asked, the fear evident in her voice.

"Plasmus, Cinderblock, and Overload."

"That's big," Cyborg said.

"No. It's bigger," Raven corrected. "The last time those three worked in tandem..."

"Slade was behind it," Robin growled.

"So how are we splitting up?" Cyborg questioned. He looked to Starfire, hovering near Robin, and Beast boy, holding Raven's hand. "Okay, I've figured that part out by now, but... who's going where?"

"We're all going the same place," Robin said. "Murakami High School."

Raven felt Beast Boy's grip tighten, as her empathic senses picked up a wave of shock, fear, and pure, unbridled _rage_.

"It's got to be a diversion," Cyborg said. "He's sendin' the most destructive thing he can at a place with a high civilian count, to throw us off his trail."

"We still have to get down there. Now."

The other Titans looked to Beast Boy, who had become stone-faced, his pupils narrowed to cat-like slits. He turned and headed for the door, at a slow, deliberate pace. The hairs on the back of his head were visibly standing up, and his hands twitched sporadically, as though he was trying to transform.

"You think Slade's after something there?" Robin called after him.

"No. Not some_thing_," Raven said, following him the door. "Some_one_."

"Who?"

Beast Boy's answer was direct: "Terra."

The other four Titans looked amongst each other, fearful and surprised. Never had they heard him speak with the intent to kill.

* * *

Herman knew he was outclassed. He was looking at martial arts, pointy things being thrown at him, and ridiculous, physics-defying acrobatic stunts. He was used to being outclassed. For as much as he was able to avoid injury- he hadn't so much as caught a cold since his precognition developed to the point it was at currently- his skill at actually _fighting_ developed in the streets.

But he was used to being outclassed. He'd fought foes who were stronger, more powerful, and more durable than he would ever be. While most of those fights ended in draws, he'd never been beaten.

Admittedly, his powers (as well as sheer dumb luck) played the major role in deciding his fights. But his greatest weapon was his mouth.

"Seriously, though, ninjas?"

A throwing knife sailed through the air. It was a warning, not meant to hit, and Herman didn't even move when it missed taking an ear by bare millimeters. His two opponents flinched slightly, shocked at his nonchalant look. He wished he could have seen the looks on their faces. In fact...

"May I ask about the half mask thing?"

In response, he received a storm of projectiles, and he twisted around them, stepping closer at every opportunity and running his mouth the whole time.

"I get most of it. Black suit, orange trim. Orange Suit, black trim. So I guess half-black-half-orange mask works."

He jumped and spun past the final volley and landed a yard in front of them, not a rip in his clothes. "But... you guys only have one eye-hole going on."

The two just stared at him in shock and confusion. Orange Ninja spoke up then.

"Did you just fucking pirouette through a storm of shuriken?" The voice, while gravelly, was still decidedly female.

"Language, honey," Herman responded. "And I think it was more of a triple axle."

Black Ninja- taller but more lithe- raced forward, swinging his strange blades at empty space as Herman stepped sideways and around him. He threw a right hook, but it missed and he had to duck under another swipe of the blades.

"Aw. I wanted to talk some more."

Herman drew his fist back for a punch, but hopped back at the last second as a throwing knife just barely missed chopping his nose off.

Orange Ninja raced into the fray with a high kick. Herman ducked under and responded with an uppercut that grazed her jaw (or maybe somewhere else; the mask made it hard to see where exactly he hit). She rubbed the bruise as he backed off.

"You know, this whole aesthetic wouldn't be too bad if not for the orange," Herman said, after some thought.

A sidestep to dodge a punch.

"And not even the fact that there's orange, just the _shade _you chose. Could have been a bit darker."

A cartwheel past another swipe of the weird sickle things.

"I mean, it's almost _Naruto _bad."

A chill ran down Herman's spine as he _felt_ a million and a half sharp objects impacting his body in various places.

"Ooh, seems like I've struck some nerves," he said with a grin. It had been a while since he'd had _that_ much ill will directed at him.

And then the next thing Herman knew, he was moving. Ducking under sword slashes, sidestepping thrusts, hopping back from all sorts of carnage, not even having the chance to attack, so fierce was the onslaught. And he had them right where he needed them to be.

An angry opponent was a predictable opponent.

A predictable opponent was a defeated opponent.

He ducked as Black sent the sickles at his head, then performed a no-handed backflip, delivering an uppercut and at the same time avoiding Orange's attack from behind, His leg sweeping out and clocking _her_ in the back of the head as he spun. He landed in the same position he started, while both opponents were brought to the floor.

Herman had little time to admire his work, however, because a ninja star flew through the air, passing through the air his back had been moments before and embedding itself in the wall.

"Go get the girl!" Orange yelled. "I'll keep him busy."

"Oh, no you don't!" Herman growled, as Black got up and raced down the hallway.

Just as Black passed the shuriken in the wall, Herman jumped back involuntarily. A second later, the wall exploded, sending debris and detritus all over.

"You're not the only one with tricks up your sleeve," Orange said.

Herman turned to his rising opponent, grabbing a stray piece of lead pipe and brandishing it like a club.

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure you'll run out first."

She pulled a second katana out from its sheath and charged him.

* * *

It was difficult to wear out concrete limbs. Besides, of course, _erosion_. But that took years. Tara had, at best, minutes. As she raced through the halls, instead of focusing how such a being could even exist, or why it was after her, her mind was stuck on how something that big was able to move that _fast_. Or how it was able to take a single step without its kneecaps buckling. Concrete was strong, but not enough to support so much of its own weight on legs that skinny. A wonderful time to be thinking about geology.

She shook that idea out of her mind. Listing the ways that a monster defied the laws of physics did nothing to get rid of it. Instead, she focused on escape. The two ninjas- why did those colors seem so familiar?- were blocking off the exit, so she'd have to run the circumference of the hallway in order to get out. And the unnaturally fast concrete construct would catch her long before then. The only option, then, was to hope the thing couldn't climb stairs.

Something hard clocked her in the back, and she cried out as she felt a rib break. She fell to the ground and quickly scrambled up, glancing back to see the giant with an armful of bricks pulled from the walls, hurling them at her. She dodged them as best as she could, though a few more hit home, and she was forced to the ground twice again before he ran out of artillery. She finally managed to turn the corner, only to find the stairwell- and exit- in use. Someone had pulled the fire alarm, and dozens of panicked students were filing out as directed by their teachers.

If she kept going, she could slip through the crowd and escape.

_But that would put everyone else in danger._

She turned around.

If this thing wanted to kill her, she'd let it. She couldn't let anyone get hurt. She wouldn't.

She held her aching rib as the concrete giant approached, roaring bloody murder and raising its giant fists to crash down on her head.

She dropped to her knees, and her arms went up in a reflexive, but futile attempt to protect herself. The concrete fists dropped.

She felt the impact, but no pain.

Another impact. Nothing.

She wasn't the only one surprised by this development. Cinderblock- the name had just come to her- seemed to falter in confusion before finally pulling back and slugging her in the chest.

A blow that by all rights should have torn her in two didn't even budge her.

In fact... she couldn't move at all.

Her hands and arms were fully intact, but made of stone.

Suddenly, the whole world was thrown into golden relief.

Standing. Still. They came and spoke. She wished to speak back, but couldn't. Soon, they stopped coming. All except him. It would be her and him, for hours at a time, a tiny hold on sanity.

Then he stopped coming. She waited days. Weeks. Months. She got sick of waiting. She wanted out. She got out. And she left him behind. She came back once, and saw him with _her_. A tree where she once stood. He'd left her behind as well.

Betrayal. Promises broken. Threats. The hot, boiling rage of the Earth itself. Pouring herself into that mix to calm it. Standing firm and telling it what to do.

_I move the Earth._

_I control the Earth_

_I _am_ the Earth_

The power was still there. She'd always felt it, never knew what it was. Just that it was once _hers_.

And she claimed it again.

She snapped back to herself. A herself that she knew long ago, who she had cast aside and now put on again, like finding an old coat that still fit. Safe. Familiar. Warm.

Her stone body glowed yellow, and she was flesh and blood once more, her hands sheathed in golden light.

She reached to Cinderblock. She saw Cinderblock. She felt Cinderblock. She _became_ Cinderblock.

And then his knees blew out. The body crashed to the floor, and before he could so much as reach out to her, his arms disintegrated.

He was, after all, _very_ structurally unsound.

She smiled to herself, but it didn't last long. Something exploded in the hallway, filling with smoke. Before Terra could react, three sharpened stars cut through the smoke and buried themselves in her abdomen.

* * *

And that's the second chapter.


End file.
